Commute
by kiwikellie
Summary: AU - Kurt is a 20-something living and working in the city. He's had a bad day. KLAINE.
1. Chapter 1

Author's note: My first Glee fic. I've been out of the fic game for a while, but here I am! Please review and let me know if I should continue. I think I could go on with this, but as of now I'm considering it a one-shot.

Disclaimer: Glee's not mine. I'm just playing with it.

Kurt's day had sucked.

He had stubbed his toe first thing in the morning. His usual bench to wait for the subway had been occupied by a slumbering homeless woman. Once on the subway, his train had gotten stuck at a station and made him miss an important meeting.

Things had been looking up when he met up with Rachel for lunch, but all she did was complain about her cast mates and the waitress had gotten his salad order all wrong.

The rest of his workday was one bad thing after another. He tried to listen in on some water cooler gossip and only heard distasteful things about his office crowd, including himself. His designs were called "lovely" by the head designer, which everyone knows actually means, "Start over again from scratch. You're basically almost fired for this."

His commute home thus far had been uneventful except for the fact that he couldn't pass his current level on Angry Birds if his life depended on it.

Now, Kurt walked through the park in his neighborhood at a brisk pace, his hands clutched into fists inside his trench coat pockets. The frigid wind cut into his cheeks and his hair whipped around his head in a frenzy. His leather satchel, slung across his chest and heavy with sketchbooks and swatchboards, bumped into his hip with each step. He focused on the end of the park's wide cobblestone pathway, between a parting in the trees, about thirty feet away. His desire to reach his apartment's warm interior and the comforts therein was strong.

He bent his head down to withstand a particularly strong gust of wind when his right shoulder was suddenly struck backward as if he ran into an errant tree.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry," said a voice.

Kurt, head still bent, noticed a milky, warm liquid splattered down his right side and arm. He removed his hands from within his pockets gingerly to avoid getting his fingers sticky. He could smell espresso.

"Did you just dump your coffee all over me?" Kurt took a few steps back.

The voice gasped and rambled, "I'm- God, I'm _so_ sorry. I was checking my phone- I didn't see you-"

"Obviously," Kurt spat, as he shook out his hand. The latte on his sleeve had trickled down between his fingers, despite his best efforts to avoid it.

"-I'll make it up to you. You'll have to get that dry-cleaned. Let me pay for it," the voice pleaded.

"It's fine. No. Whatever," Kurt sighed as he shook out his hand one last time and took his phone from his pocket to make sure it was unharmed. It was sticky, but it would survive.

Kurt finally looked at his assailant. He saw dark curls gelled into a parted wave on the top of his head. He saw honey-colored eyes, wide with concern, and a strong jawline darkened with stubble. The man's bottom lip was stuck between his teeth in an expression of concern. He saw a beautiful, wool tweed coat, over a gray suit, over a slim, sturdy body.

He saw a hottie.

Despite the fact that Kurt was suddenly in lust with this man, he was still angry.

"Thanks a lot, _sir_. Goodnight."

"I'm sorry! Please let me make it up to you," said the man in the suit. Kurt had begun walking again and regained his swift pace while the assailant trotted alongside him. "I feel like such a dick."

"That's because you are." Kurt rolled his eyes.

"I'm sorry."

"Look!" Kurt stopped to turn to the man. "I know you're sorry. Give it a rest. It's been a bad day for me already, exemplified by the fact that I am now sporting a thin, sticky layer of Starbucks. It's fucking freezing out here and I now have coffee all over my new favorite coat. Let me just get the hell home, okay?" He turned on his heel and began to take a step when the man gripped his shoulder. They stood in the light of the street lamp, just inside the park. Commuters passed on the sidewalk and a woman with a terrier jogged past them. Kurt looked around in annoyance before engaging the man in eye contact only meant for his worst enemies.

"I just feel so bad. Let me make it up to you," said the man, giving what Kurt imagined was his best impression of a kicked puppy.

This only angered Kurt more. "You can make it up to me by leaving me the _hell_ alone!" he raised his voice and rolled his eyes. "Don't try to make _me_ feel guilty for not letting _you_ pay for goddamn dry-cleaning."

"I'm sorry," said the man again, hastily removing his hand from Kurt's shoulder. He looked sincere. Kurt's resolve broke a little - but only a little. "You won't let me pay to restore your coat, then let me take you for a cup of coffee."

"I'm off coffee for now," Kurt sighed, glancing down and brushing off the droplets of liquid still clinging to the fibers of his coat. "Ironic, right?" he joked darkly.

"Then let me take you out to dinner," said the hottie.

Kurt's head shot up. "Excuse me?"

"What's your name? I'm Blaine." The suited man stuck out his hand and gave a charming smile.

"Kurt." He hesitated, but shook the offered hand and immediately regretted it. Their skin stuck together until they peeled their hands apart.

"Kurt. Please let me make this up to you by taking you to dinner."

Kurt blinked. A split moment's thought: He thought of a shower, a hot cup of tea, and a blanket back at his apartment. "No. Thank you," he declined, amused now at this man's insistence. "Goodnight."

He turned and made to leave the park, leaning into the wind and hugging the curve of the park's aged brick wall. Blaine didn't follow. Kurt covered little distance down the sidewalk before he heard Blaine call out behind him.

"What if I told you I watched you pass me every day on this path and I'm actually really glad I got to finally talk to you?"

Kurt stopped walking.

"Despite the circumstances, Kurt, I'm glad we bumped into each other," Blaine called.

Kurt sighed and smirked a little, adjusting his bag on his shoulder. He turned just enough to project his voice to Blaine without letting the whole neighborhood into their conversation.

"If that's true, then I'll see you tomorrow, Blaine. Right now I just want to go home."


	2. Chapter 2

Author's note: My first Glee fic. Please review and let me know if I should continue. I don't have a solid plan for this, so I'm letting it take me where it wants to go. This second part is all thanks to the reviewers on the first! Thanks for your support!

Disclaimer: Glee's not mine. I'm just playing with it.

Kurt's day had been- well, pretty great.

He woke up with a swoosh in his hair that was decidedly fabulous. His outfit was complimented by an adorable art student on the subway, which was running perfectly on time. He completed two inspiration boards for his team's new line before his tea break and his department manager didn't even try to take credit for his gorgeous jacket design during the 10:30 meeting.

By saving time with a packed meal, he had plenty of time on his lunch break to peruse the internet for a new bar for Rachel and himself to try out on the upcoming weekend. Said packed meal was delicious, filling, and satisfying, despite the fact that it was a recipe that he had been unsure about and mostly improvised.

The rest of his work day, he had been walking on air. He felt good, he looked good, and his superiors were finally beginning to take notice of his work.

Now, Kurt slipped out of work 10 minutes early and stopped at the dry cleaners around the block from his office. When the friendly woman behind the counter saw the stains on his designer coat, she put a rush on it and promised it would be done before she left for the night. Kurt thanked the Manhattan gods that she understood an emergency when she saw one.

Only once he was on the subway ride home did he realize that he might see that cute guy with the coffee again today.

What was his name?

Blaine.

He really was cute.

His stomach immediately flipped and tightened into a neat knot. He had acted like such a bitch yesterday.

Kurt was surprised to realize that he was actually embarrassed.

Did Blaine actually ask him out? Did Kurt actually yell at him to leave him alone?

But… he was cute. And seemed pretty sweet. Why would Kurt do that? He wasn't exactly turning down dinner invitations left and right. When Kurt actually gave it thought, he realized that he hadn't been on a proper date since that guy Rachel set him up with. That was last October. It's April. That is too long of a stretch in New York City dating terms.

Kurt wondered what the hell crawled up his ass yesterday. By this time, Blaine has probably realized how unattractive Kurt could be and decided that he wasn't worth it anymore. Kurt wondered if he could fix it.

Upon climbing the stairs to exit his neighborhood subway station, he stopped at the nearest shop window. He hated to be that guy checking himself out in windows like this, but the shop was closed anyway. Turning his head from side to side, he patted the swoosh in his hair back into place. He untied and retied the belt on his backup trench coat. He debated on whether to pop his collar or leave it neatly flat on his shoulders. His decision was to sculpt it into a half-popped, half-flat shape that left him feeling fierce. Adjusting his bag on his shoulder, Kurt made his way down the sidewalk toward the park.

The walk from the subway station to his apartment building was a pleasant one. The streets of his neighborhood were filled with brownstones and lined with trees. Hip restaurants were on every corner. He looked forward to Spring when the window boxes would be full of flowers and the pubs would open the front walls and put out the sidewalk seating. Like the sky had heard his recent wishes for Spring, the weather had tamed itself during the afternoon and though it was still chilly, Kurt could enjoy the walk at a more patient pace.

As he walked, Kurt tried to avoid thoughts and fantasies of what dinner with Blaine would be like once he could apologize and accept his invitation. He tried to think about the work he brought home with him. He began think up an excuse to tell Rachel concerning why he'll need to cancel their girls' weekend. He thought about the last time he changed his sheets. Is there a spare toothbrush in the medicine cabinet?

He tried not to get ahead of himself.

He entered the park. The knot in his stomach clenched tighter.

When he finally spotted Blaine on the path ahead, he experienced a brief skip in his step before he decided the best course of action was to tone it down. Act friendly, but not excited. Play it cool, Hummel.

Kurt casually glanced around at the trees. He poked around on his phone. His eyes flickered back to Blaine as their paths crossed.

Blaine passed by with brisk steps and without a look in Kurt's direction, clutching a latte and looking distracted.

Kurt stopped.

What the hell?

Kurt had prepared a faint, friendly smile in anticipation of Blaine's greeting and their subsequent conversation. It had frozen on his lips while his eyebrows furrowed in a look of stunned confusion.

What the hell just happened?

Kurt spun and followed Blaine as quickly as he could without jogging and looking desperate. Once he caught up to him, he began to stride easily alongside him.

Blaine glanced over to Kurt without looking him in the eyes and sighed in recognition.

Kurt was sure that he was right about Blaine's realization that Kurt wasn't worth his time anymore, but he was already walking next to him and there was no going back now. "Um, hey."

"Hey, Kurt." Blaine brought the coffee cup to his lips and took a long sip.

"Listen, I wanted to apologize for my bitchy attitude yesterday. My coat's gonna be fine and I really shouldn't have yelled at you."

"Apology accepted." Blaine was looking straight ahead and walking quickly. He seemed tense.

Kurt put a hand on Blaine's elbow and tried to slow him down. "Are you okay?"

Blaine stopped power-walking like a maniac, turned to Kurt, and sighed again. "Actually, I've had a crappy day."

"I know how those go," Kurt replied, with a grimace and a nod. Realizing he was still holding Blaine's elbow, Kurt let go, brushing invisible lint off of Blaine's sleeve in a lame attempt at nonchalance.

Blaine chuckled bitterly at Kurt's words. "I- uh- I lost my office to my boss's new girlfriend."

"How tacky."

"She was my assistant."

"Despicable."

"Precisely," Blaine smirked a little.

"Have you tried wearing mini-skirt to the office?"

Blaine's smirk widened, but he otherwise ignored the joke. "So if you don't mind, I'm going to go home and plot my revenge. See you tomorrow, Kurt."

Blaine raised a hand in farewell and began to walk away.

"Yeah, see you tomorrow," Kurt called.

Blaine briefly turned and gave a big, sparkly, white smile that soothed Kurt's worries.

"I'm pretty great with elaborate plans," Kurt called in a flash of confidence.

Blaine turned and walked backward for a few steps, calling back, "Whatever I come up with, I'll be sure to run it by you tomorrow."

The knot in Kurt's stomach spun and twisted in the other direction, leaving his insides tangled and strangely mushy feeling. He smiled and dove in. "Over dinner? Maybe we'll both be in better moods?"

Blaine had already turned around to keep walking, but at this he stopped and gave a quick laugh. "My day just got much better. Dinner tomorrow. Deal."

Kurt's day had been fantastic.


End file.
